Roatan Vortex© – It Pulls You in and You Never Want to Leave

Do Need
• to be able to improvise a favourite recipe
• WD40
• a source for canning jars before you decide to make Voodoo Mango Chutney
• to know someone who can get your IPhone going again after APPLE crashes it
• containers with tight fitting lids – preferably not metal
• to be able to enjoy doing…nothing
• to know how to convert Lempiras to US dollars
• to accept when the Roatan Vortex pulls you in
• to carry a book when you go to the bank – you might be in-line long enough to read the whole thing
• if you are Canadian; a red shirt with a maple leaf on it when watching Canada beat the US in the final gold medal Olympic Hockey Night in Canada, on Roatan
• a friend who also needs a drivers license when you go for yours – they only process two at a time
• a running list of things you need, so when friends come to visit they can bring them
• to keep a towel handy to wipe the sweat off your face
• to accept that when you are told something will be available manana (tomorrow) that really means, next week, next month or maybe never

Don’t Need
• A mailbox –we don’t get mail delivered
• a reason to have a party
• to take vitamin D
• a last name
• winter clothing
• a watch
• high heel shoes
• to try to rescue a Portuguese Man of War
• to prove you know how to drive to get a driver’s license
• anything with “anti-freeze” on the label
• a sauna
• envelopes and stamps
• anything made from pressed board – termite candy
• to worry when the power goes out at the power company

While all my comments and suggestions are light-hearted, sometimes silly statements about life on Roatan, they all represent what I believe is the most important aspects of Do and Don’t on Roatan.

DON’T move to Roatan expecting to turn it into where you came from. Instead, DO enjoy and appreciate everything it has to offer you that is different from where you came from.

This is a guest post by Penny Leigh, owner operator of Penelope’s Island Emporium, founder of Roatan Renegade Rescue, and the lady who put to use the multitude of mangoes that would have gone to waste on our property.

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How it all started…….

I always wanted to have my own line of food………Miss Penny’s “whatever.” I am a gourmet cook, ran a Chicago gourmet club for eleven years and really enjoy experimenting with new recipes. I always thought if I had not been such a busy corporate executive’s wife and mom, I would have given Martha Stewart a run for her money.

Moving to Roatan five years ago and opening Penelope’s Island Emporium kept me pretty busy in the beginning. I marveled at all the luscious tropical fruits growing abundantly, much of it falling to the ground. I remember paying $5.00 for a mango back in Chicago and it looked a lot worse than the discards here on the island!

I was browsing through my Caribbean Pantry Cookbook and found a scrumptious sounding recipe for Mango Chutney. My friends were coming to visit from Atlanta, it was mango season and this would be a new adventure they would surely enjoy. I contacted Dave and Genny to ask permission to pick a truckload of mangos. I had been by their property and had actually “heard” the mangos falling off the trees. Well, the Big Mango Adventure Day arrived. Mangos are sticky with juice and the jungle is hot, humid and buggy.

My compatriots were less than thrilled. I thought my friend, Francine had passed out somewhere deep in the jungle, when actually she had been rescued by Genny & was enjoying a cool drink and the shade of their deck. In hindsight Francine was the smarter of the bunch.

We loaded up the truck with hundreds of mangos and dragged them home, upstairs onto my deck. I couldn’t let them spoil in the plastic garbage bags outside, so set them up all over the deck. Then came the invasion of bats……………Uck Muck! Back in the bags they went, getting softer by the minute. One look at Francine’s face the following morning told me she would not be joining me in the cleaning, cutting and pit removal of this oozing mess I had created. My partner immediately announced he was allergic to mangoes, couldn’t even touch them…………..of course he was.

I got through it finally, took a whole day.

Next, the cooking. I had large canning pots, cauldrons going on all four gas burners. I had had other friends bring me down Cardamom seed pods and fresh vanilla beans, $6.00 a bean! Twenty-three ingredients went into the pots, simmering for two days and it was 90 degrees outside, so about 150 degrees in my kitchen and I don’t have air conditioning. Alas, there was no turning back.

I did not mention that, being the organized person I am, I had ordered ten dozen jelly canning jars from our biggest grocery market two months before jumping into Mango Land. Every week I was told they would most definitely be on the next boat. Well, long story short, the chutney was ready and I had no jars. My big chest freezer was destroyed in a flood and I was in full blown panic mode. Fortunately, my next door neighbor developer let me store the chutney in his empty condo freezer compartments, as it was only for a few days……

1 month later!
The canning jars have arrived…the size of mayonnaise jars.

2 months later!
The canning jars have arrived…quart size.

4 months later!
The canning jars have arrived…pint size.

Not jelly jars, but dammit close enough. Just in the nick of time as I got a call that people were moving into the condos and would not be pleased to find mysterious bags of unrecognizable glop in their freezers.

Finally…..
Thawed and reheated the mango chutney, boiled all the jars, filled them and hand labeled each jar. Ready to go on the shelf! Feeling quite accomplished, I then had to figure out how much to charge. Anyone running a business knows you must keep track of all your costs to determine your selling price of an item.

So: Gas for the truck, a half day of labor x 4 people, 200 gallon size ziplock bags, 12 hours of cleaning and peeling fruit, 2 days of cooking with propane, 120 canning jars, 23 ingredients, 120 fancy labels, raffia decoration of jars, slightly damaged friendship…priceless.

I figured that if I priced them at $60.00 a jar I might break even. At $10.00 a jar they sold briskly and I only have 2 jars left. Genny, I hope you enjoy your Mango Voodoo Chutney, because it will NEVER, EVER be made or sold at Penelope’s again!!!

Penny Leigh, owner operator of Penelope’s Island Emporium, founder of Roatan Renegade Rescue

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Thanks for sharing your story Penny! Wednesday March 31, the Roatan Vortex Radio Show, on Roatan Radio the theme will be all about “Mangoes and Other Tropical Fruit Adventures on Roatan.”

I love to garden, and where I’m from, Waterloo, Ontario, Canada, I learned all about gardening from my grandma. I would watch her, on hands and knees, digging in the soil that crumbled between her fingers. The frigid days of winter had released their grip, the blanket of snow and muddied ice all but gone. Longer, warmer, sunlit days were doing their part to soften the land. The determined crocuses had already pushed their way through weeks earlier, soft, velvet purple blooms, to impatient to wait for the snow to be gone. Grandma taught me when to plant what. She explained what needed full sunshine to thrive, and what preferred to peek out from a shady corner. When the time was just right, she’d have a load of compost delivered and together we would work it into the waking soil, while she reminded me how much better our garden would grow, if we fed it well.

On Roatan, Honduras, a tropical island in the Caribbean Sea, it’s always summer. At least compared to what I was used to. There is no anxiously waiting for the snow to melt away, no crocuses putting on a show in early spring.

The first year, I marvelled at the beauty of plants, trees and flowers growing in the jungle, and lining the paths to the beach, to the road, to my Roatan home. These were species I had previously only seen in greenhouses or cut-stems of bird-of-paradise, and orchids at the flower shops that I would purchase as a special gift. I had never seen a cashew tree before, or mango, or bananas hanging from a banana palm, hibiscus that blooms all year round, or experienced the heavenly fragrance of the guava fruit.

Year two, I had to try my hand at gardening. I quickly learned to only work outside when the sun hasn’t risen to high yet, or just before it goes down. I learned to cover up, with light breathable clothing (or spend all my time swatting bugs.) And the most amazing thing I learned was if you snip a branch, or stem from—just about any plant that is native to here—stick it in the ground—it will grow!

Year three, I’ve started a composting program in my neighbourhood. As my grandma said, “Feed the soil, and watch the garden grow.” I add fallen leaves between each layer, I turn it, I water it daily, and I can’t believe how quickly a batch is ready. The scent of the dark soft compost is sweet, and citrusy, it crumbles between my fingers as I turn it in a new garden bed, or top up a garden I created last year. I do have a problem though, the pineapple tops, won’t break down as quickly as all the other fruit and vegetable scraps do.

…I know, I’ll just push them in the ground and grow pineapples! I bet it will work as well as planting sticks on Roatan does—my Island Garden Paradise.

This posting can also be read at Honduras Weekly

“As always, thoroughly enjoyable… thanks Genny, you give wonderful balance and a breath of fresh air to Honduras Weekly. So much of our news is about poverty, Zelaya, aid, etc. After awhile it all weighs down on you a bit, and so it’s nice to be lifted up with your stories. You’re in… Marco”

“Keep writing, you have no idea how much we enjoy it – Regards Marlene”

I’ve always enjoyed fresh fruits and vegetables. When I lived in Canada, I chose the ones without blemishes or bruises. Heaven forbid anything had a moldy spot—those items belonged on the day old shelf. Or better yet, throw them away. I’d buy the prepackaged mini carrots. I’d compare the pineapples. Not sure how to tell if I had picked a good one, I’d spend an extra dollar for one pre-sliced in a plastic container. And I always selected only the orangest of the oranges—perfect color, perfect dimples, always seedless.

Then I moved to Roatan. I anticipated finding the best of the best (as I knew it). Very quickly I had to change my way of thinking. If I was only willing to select what looked like it could be used for a photo-shoot for Delmonte, I might as well start buying canned peas and fruit-cups.

The carrots here are big and gnarly. The melons have spots, the celery is pretty limp, and the oranges, well…they are down-right ugly. Pale yellowy-grey skin, absolutely no dimples, and nary a sticker confirming they are seedless. I wasn’t even sure they were oranges until I saw a street vendor selling them. He had a pile of them stacked high in a cart, and a tool, much like an apple peeler; he used to remove the tough outer layer. I watched people purchase oranges from him for a few Limps (pennies) each.

I bought a couple, took them home, realized I could not peel them; I sliced one open, and flicked out the many seeds. The inside color wasn’t much better than the outside, but it did seem to be quite juicy. I sliced it again, and prepared a wedge to pop into my mouth. Removal of more seeds, and I gave it a try. The flavor was unlike any orange I had ever tasted before. It was the sweetest, most delectable orange I ever had the pleasure to eat.

THIS is how an orange should taste.

So if ever you come to Roatan, Honduras, try not to turn your nose up at the ugly oranges, give one a try—you will be pleasantly surprised.  The carrots, pineapples and melons are pretty awesome too! And the limp celery—just soak it in some cold water.

This story is also posted at Honduras Weekly What an Orange Really Tastes Like

Where the Heck is Roatan?

Answer – Between Utila and Guanaja.

At least that is what the very popular tourist t-shirt has printed on it.

Without making you feel like you are back in grade school geography class, (I would get pretty glassy-eyed in that class). I will keep the explanation simple.

Roatan is a small island off the coast of Honduras, in the Caribbean Sea. On one side is the even smaller island of Utila, and the other side is the island of Guanaja (hence the t-shirt). All three islands are part of the chain of islands known as the Bay Islands.

Roatan is surrounded by the second biggest barrier reef (Australia is first). The beaches are soft white sand. The foliage is lush and tropical, (yes, bananas and coconuts grow here), starting from the beaches rising toward a central ridge of foothill’s. I don’t think they qualifies as mountains—okay, so not boring you with geography isn’t my only reason for keeping the details simple.

When I stand on our dock looking to the North, a few hundred miles away (I think) is the border between Belize and Mexico. To the West (when watching the fabulous sunsets) I am facing Guatemala. South is mainland Honduras, and to the East is the Cayman Islands and Jamaica. I should mention that Honduras (which Roatan is part of) is in Central America, between Mexico and South America. I’m not trying to be condescending; before I came here I didn’t know exactly where Central America was, let alone Honduras.

With great pleasure, I could tell you so much more about Roatan; the ocean, teaming with coral and marine life, the jungle landscapes, the glorious year round tropical climate, the diverse cultural mix, tourist attractions, etc. etc. etc. But there are many sites offering much better information on these kinds of details.

What I have to share is a firsthand account of living here. And through that I believe you will come to love it as much as those of us who have chosen to call it home. Roatan is a hidden gem worthy of exploring. But be warned: Once the Roatan Vortex pulls you in…You will never want to leave.

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